Window to the Soul
by Mighty ANT
Summary: The face is a picture of the mind, as the eyes are its interpreter.  Oneshot


_**Window to the Soul**_

_~The face is a picture of the mind, as the eyes are its interpreter~_

_Matthew 6:22-23 - The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. Therefore if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!_

_~Toy Story © PIXAR~_

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Bonnie's mother had always told her that one's eyes were windows to the soul, and the little girl had taken this wisdom to heart. Although, it wasn't put into use with actual human people.

Instead, the girl executed this practice on toys.

Before she bought a new toy, stuffed animal, or figurine, she would stare deep into their eyes. Where most would only see glassy, unemotional plastic looking back, Bonnie found more.

She would uncover sadness in some, innocent cheer in others, and at times even confusion and twinges of anger. Too young to grasp her newfound talent, Bonnie had put it into use at every waking moment. Not even her current toys were excluded.

Before and after every playtime, Bonnie would scan their expressions for any response. If one toy disliked a role they were given, she would see the touch of annoyance in their eyes. The girl attempted to show her parents this, demonstrate her otherwise impossible skill, but they saw nothing. Only the same impassive gaze of Bonnie's toys staring back.

Although, this ritual had led to the girl knowing her toys better than she even knew herself. Because of her habit, she knew that Mr. Pricklepants would not care how many jellybeans she spat into his fur, or that Dolly didn't mind being the villain in almost every single one of her playtimes. Now she would scan their expressions so swiftly and easily that at times she didn't even realize she had done it. She appreciated her strange gift, and when her assumptions came out to be correct, she couldn't help but feel proud—her toys were her best friends after all. Having them in her favor was always a good thing.

And then there was The Bear.

Bonnie had seen the stuffed pink animal at Sunnyside for as long as she could remember, now dingy and grubby from age and being passed from child to child so frequently. It was still a relatively handsome toy, with an exuberant smile and overall plush-ness. Her fellows in the Butterfly Room all vied to be the one to keep The Bear in their possession for the day. But she had never attempted to play with it. Not once.

It could have been The Bear's glassy eyes…the expressionless façade that she had grown able to see cleanly through. How utterly…_blank _it seemed, finally coerced Bonnie into asking for it one day.

Bonnie gently put down the dark blue manta ray she'd been playing with, having been propelling the white-spotted, plastic sea creature through the air as if it were underwater, and took The Bear from the offered hands of one of her few tentative friends. The Bear's fur and body creased slightly in her soft grasp, flopping over limply with its limbs splayed out slightly. Lifeless, just like every other toy.

A strangely familiar smell reached her senses, and sending The Bear a haphazard look, slowly lifted the stuffed body and took a hesitant sniff. The almost acidic scent of strawberries instantly overwhelmed her, and Bonnie rapidly pulled the plush animal away from her face.

The girl ignored the few strange looks she received from her peers, instead inspecting the creature from all sides. One of his legs seemed floppier than the others, and it was clear that it had been handled for quite some time, though still appeared to be an ageless toy, of sorts.

And then she saw its eyes.

The Bear's warm, honey brown orbs would have put any other unwitting child at ease, but only Bonnie saw what was hidden past them. It was heart wrenching and terrifying at the same time.

The young girl slowly placed The Bear back onto the ground, her small fingers gently brushing against the carpeted floor before releasing the creature and pulling back, leaving the stuffed animal leaning against the Ken doll's Dream House. Its head lolled to the side slightly as Bonnie stood, making headway towards the door in search of comfort in the form of her mother.

She had never seen so much rage and misery in a toy's eyes before.

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_**A/N: The italics at the top were not meant to offend- I simply thought that they were ideal for this specific story. **_

_**Reviews are love :T**_

_**Flames will be used to light the fire that warms my home :/**_


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